


Respite

by b0ba_f3rnz



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b0ba_f3rnz/pseuds/b0ba_f3rnz
Summary: A little snippet of a medieval Knight Martin/Scholar Jon AU that I may or may not end up ever actually writing. I just liked the way this little bit came out so I figured I'd post :)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Respite

The door to Jon’s chamber opened with a heavy clang, making Jon jump. Ink spilled down the front of his desk, staining the thankfully blank parchment. Swiping the parchment off the desk to prevent further spill, he wheeled around to see who had intruded.  
All anger flooded out of him as he saw the large figure standing in his doorway.  
“Martin?”  
He picked up his candle, holding it aloft. It was, indeed, Martin. He smiled crookedly, and Jon felt his blood run cold. His hair was matted with blood on one side, and his left eye was rapidly swelling.  
“Oh good lord.” He said, rushing over to Martin, who looked in danger of collapsing. He guided him back to his desk, where he sat heavily in Jon’s chair. He gently touched the side of Martin’s head.  
“Blood’s not mine.” Martin said, and Jon was sure his relaxation was visible. He turned his attention to the rest of him. He was still in his armor.  
“Come on, let’s get this off you.” He said quietly, carefully undoing the buckles around his breastplate. As if stirred into action by Jon’s touch, Martin leaned down, undoing more of his buckles until he sat in his shirtsleeves and trousers, a pile of tarnished metal at his side.  
Jon crouched down so he was looking Martin in the eyes, and cupped his cheek with one hand.  
“How are you?” He asked softly.  
Martin closed his eyes.  
“I hate it.” He said. “The fighting, the blood, all of it. It’s not even worth anything, just petty land or money or-” A tear streaked down his face. Jon brushed it off with his thumb.  
“You can stay with me for the night.” He said. “I- I can’t promise you that there won’t be more fighting in the morning, but-” He ran his other hand through Martin’s curls, shining in the candlelight. “If you need respite-” He whispered. “You can find it here."  
Martin looked up. “What do you think keeps me on my feet out there?”  
He got up, his arm slung around Jon’s shoulders. They climbed into Jon’s narrow bed, knowing exactly how to position themselves so that they’d fit. Martin was asleep within seconds, leaving Jon to contemplate how, despite his life spent in search of knowledge, he felt he needed no more answers than the one lying beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading!


End file.
